


cherry pie sky

by VerdantMoth



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Dreams, Established Relationship, Jo Harvelle Lives, M/M, Metaphores, POV Castiel (Supernatural), Shovel Talk, Something Like Heaven, Unrequited Crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-27
Updated: 2020-11-27
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:54:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27731107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VerdantMoth/pseuds/VerdantMoth
Summary: Jo laughs, belly deep and tear worthy. “Last time, there were undertones of leather and lust!”Cas is ashamed to say, he wishes he’d been granted that. “Who wove this?” Cas asks.Jo eyes him critically. “Sometimes I forget you still have traces of your grace. None of us have solved it. Someone who loves Dean, loves him more fully than anyone else can comprehend.”
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Kudos: 34





	cherry pie sky

“I’ll never forgive you, you know,” the voice grins.

Cas wakes, jolts, stirs? He reaches to his side where Dean fell asleep last night, and is met by nothing. 

No, not nothing. Grass?

“Jo?” He demands. “You should be in Fayetteville, working with Kaia.”

“Oh, sure. But that’s  _ there.  _ Right now I’m here. With  _ you.  _ Where are we? By the way?” Jo settles down beside him. She looks softer than he remembers. Sure, she is still all lean muscle and sharp bone and razor gold hair. 

But her eyes are less troubled, her grin truer. “Love looks good on you,” Cas muses. “I was hoping you could answer that question.”

Jo laughs, and that sound, girlish over stone, settles Cas. Adds something real to the dreamscape. “That’s fair. We’re where everyone who loves Dean ends up eventually,” Jo tells him. 

“Cryptic.” Cas pouts. 

“Yup.”

“So,” Cas eyes the, sky? It’s not the right blue. But it’s not  _ otherworldly _ either. Just… hazy. “Why am I unforgivable?”

Jo turns to him. There’s a little bit of the old her. Eyes hard, not quite cruel, but untrusting. “I’ll never forgive you for loving Dean. For making him love you, so deeply and uncompromisingly.”

Cas stares at her, gapes a little. “I don’t-“

“Cas,” she says gently. “You know you feel the same. About me. About Sam. About every moron Dean has ever graced with his love, has ever been loved by.”

“We all hurt him,” Cas understands. 

“We all _ leave  _ him.” Jo’s voice is sharp. Commanding. Cas forgets, sometimes, how grown this woman is. 

“What do I do?” Cas asks, mostly to himself. 

For a long time he and Jo sit in the unreal place. Trees fade into view, large oaks and red maples. The grass itches, the sky fuzzes in and out. Birds sing like they’ve cotton in their beaks. “The air smells like whiskey and cherry pie,” Cas suddenly complains. 

Jo laughs, belly deep and tear worthy. “Last time, there were undertones of leather and lust!”

Cas is ashamed to say, he wishes he’d been granted that. “Who wove this?” Cas asks. 

Jo eyes him critically. “Sometimes I forget you still have traces of your grace. None of us have solved it. Someone who loves Dean, loves him more fully than anyone else can comprehend.”

That comment, it rankles at Cas. Makes his bones itch, makes his feathers stretch. 

“Most of us had bet on you, actually,” Jo tells him. 

Somewhere a band screeches into the air, first notes discordant, horrible. Jo shifts, leans into Cas. “Sound means times almost up. So, shovel talk, blah blah. Don’t hurt him Cas. Don’t make him live without you. Here, there, anywhere. You do that, you leave him, you go somewhere he can’t?”

For a moment Cas is back in Dean’s arms, but he’s seeing so many faces it makes him nauseated. 

“You do that, and none of us will ever let you forget what you gave up,” Jo whispers. 

In a blink, Cas is jerking up, head knocking into Dean’s chin. 

“Christ,” Dean spits. No blood, but it’ll bruise. “Cas, man, you ok?”

Cas turns, and Dean is still sleep rumpled, could drift back in seconds. “Everything is fine. Sleep. I love you.”

Dean smiles at him, something soft and secret. “Yeah, man. You too. Hey, do you smell... pie?”

Before Cas can process the question, Dean is already snoring again, muttering about blueberries and bourbon. 


End file.
